Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Devon
We are halfway between the hospital and the Ben Franklin Bridge when my mom’s trusty-rusty old Corolla lets out a rattling belch followed by a dragon puff of smoke from beneath her hood.
I reach across Syd’s lap like my arm will protect her from the billowing black smoke that wreaks of oil and carcinogens while I pull the car into the empty parking spots along the side of Vine Street.
Why did I decide to drive this ancient P.O.S. anyway?
“Remind me why we drove this dinosaur again?” Syd asks as I poke frantically at the release button to unbuckle her seat belt and push her out of the car. Syd swats my hand away. “Jesus, Ms. G. I’m seventeen. I think I can unbuckle myself. And the car is not on fire. Relax.”
She releases the seatbelt with ease and gives me a look like I’m an overbearing mother wiping something off her face. I lift my hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry. Instinct,” I explain, checking my side mirror for traffic and then sliding out of the car into the fug.
My booted foot is immediately puddled in sweat.
Drivers are beeping as they pass, like their horns are going to help expedite the death of the car and clear the clouds of noxious fumes from the expressway.
I can feel Syd’s eyes on me as we look on helplessly from the curb.
“Let’s put your granny panties in the window and abandon it,” she says.
I give her a look and discreetly pull up my jeans to make sure my underwear isn’t showing.
I was having such a good day. I mean, I ran into Satan in the elevator up from hell, but besides that.
The kids at the hospital were responsive and grateful for the free tutoring.
Syd received early acceptance to Rutgers—my alma mater.
Cue proud tear. And the falafel-truck guy on the corner in front of UPenn gave me a freebie.
Now I have to break it to my mom that I broke her antique-on-wheels while trying to give it the exercise it deserves and I’ll be missing our girls-night-in date.
“I’ll call a tow truck. You call your mom,” I tell Syd.
She slips her phone from her bra and I shake my head. How is that comfortable? I dig through my teacher bag and find mine an hour later. Before I even have a chance to Google, Syd is done with her call.
“She can’t come in. She’s got a shift until nine and no one can cover,” she explains, toying with her eyebrow ring. She does that when she gets nervous.
“It’s fine. We can get an Uber—or hang at Meredi—”
“Yes!” Syd exclaims. She’s met Meredith twice and has not shut up about her since. Kindred spirits, those two. I imagine them both in leather pants starting bar fights or slaying vampires or some shit. “Do you think that hottie from the elevator is there yet?”
Damn it. I forgot Jeff is going over.
“Easy there, stalker. I think that Meredith might actually be at the hosp–”
“Oh no you don’t! You think I can’t smell your bullshit? Please!”
The look she’s giving me is so condescending that I’ve forgotten how to form words.
Syd lifts her phone and shows me Meredith’s contact. Yikes. Who gave her Mer’s number? I can’t even imagine the conversations these two are probably having behind my back.
Syd: Dr. Meredith, have you ever taken mushrooms?
Meredith: Of course, Syd. Who hasn’t?
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to delete her from your contacts. ASAP. Let’s just get an Uber home,” I try.
Syd rolls her eyes and presses the call button then walks a little bit up the block so I can’t hear her private conversation with my best friend.
I miss eighth grade Syd. The one who hung on my every word like I was Athena, Goddess of Knowledge.
I want a take-back, but it’s too late. Now with Meredith on board, I’m stuck in this mess.
I take in a deep breath to calm myself and choke on the fumes.
I’m just hanging up with the tow company when Syd reappears by my side looking like a kid on an Easter egg hunt. Her smile does little to soothe my nerves as I look at the traffic blurring past the hunk of metal before me.
“She’s coming to get us,” she tells me with a little bounce.
I lift a brow. Appraise her with new found respect. I was sure we’d have to walk. Drag my boot across fifteen humid city blocks then face Dr. Dick lookin’ like a swampy beast.
“She gave up her parking spot?”
I’m legit in shock. Meredith’s Audi has not left her coveted spot off of Passyunk since before the pandemic.
She must really love the kid. Not that I can blame her.
There’s just something about Sydney. She went to war against herself and her body and she came out on the other side with this warrior’s spirit that makes everyone stronger around her. I pat her on the back.
“Well done, Young Padawan,” I tell her.
“What the fuck’s a Panda Wand?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.
Ugh. Generation Z.
“Language! Come on, Syd.” I ruffle her hair and she smacks at my hand. I point to the Starbucks on the corner and say, “I’ll buy you a pink drink and explain the inner workings of the Star Wars universe.”
“Oh gawd. Please don’t,” she mutters as we head toward the crosswalk.
Ignore her, I do.